


Muggle Beasts and Where to Find Them

by ashindk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 18:37:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashindk/pseuds/ashindk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two single fathers choose the same day to take their children on an outing.</p><p><b>Featured Book:</b> <span class="u">Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them</span></p>
            </blockquote>





	Muggle Beasts and Where to Find Them

**Author's Note:**

  * For [momatu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/momatu/gifts).



> Birdsofshore deserves at least half the credit for making this fic what it is. She gives great sex advice… Erm… for writing it, that is.

  
Cover Design from the 2009 edition  


Harry hasn't been to the Zoo since that time when he was ten and accidentally set a boa constrictor on his cousin. If he's being honest, he can't say that he's missed it. The idea of wild animals being held in captivity for the purpose of being stared at by horrible brats like Dudley is not appealing. But Teddy has been begging Harry to take him there, ever since Luna gave him a copy of _Muggle Beasts and Where to Find Them_ ; the book she and her husband wrote. And that's why Harry is currently leaning on a railing, staring at a truly bizarre beast.

“ _Aardvarks,_ ” Teddy had cited from memory, while tugging him by the hand through the London Zoo, “ _are distant Muggle relatives to the common Niffler. They're native to Africa, where they live in burrows and dig for ants, rather than the shiny things that Nifflers fancy. Though the animals themselves are not magical, wizards of the Hausa People make magical amulets from the heart, skin, forehead, and nails of the aardvark, which gives the owner the ability to pass through walls or roofs at night. Even though the amulets seldom work, they are illegal under M.O.M. legislation._ ”

The odd animals are snuffling at the ground, apparently looking for ants to eat. They're extremely ugly, Harry thinks to himself, with their almost hairless skin and small eyes. And the smell isn't pleasant either. He doesn't relay his opinion to Teddy, though; his godson is so enthusiastic about the animals that he doesn't notice Harry's wrinkled nose.

“Let's go, Harry! I want to see the dragons!”

“Okay, mate. Let's go then.”

Harry isn't sorry to leave the aardvarks behind. But dragons in a Muggle zoo? The part of his brain that's forever stuck at the office in MLE can’t help but wonder if that wouldn’t be a serious violation of the Statute of Secrecy. On the other hand... Luna's the co-author of the book, so for all he knows, the alleged dragons are invisible. He'd better ask the magi-zoology expert he's conveniently brought along.

“What does the book have to say about dragons, Teddy?”

Teddy clears his throat and starts reciting;

“ _As any witch or wizard worth their wand can see, the Komodo Dragon isn't really a dragon, since it lacks wings and the ability to breathe fire._ ”

“So they're not really dragons?”

“No, Harry! They're _lizards_. They don't have _wings_.”

Harry has to hide a smile at Teddy's exasperation with him. He's extremely proud that Teddy's passionate about his hobby, but maybe the boy has been spending a little too much time with Hermione lately.

“Maybe I should read the description in the book, before we go and look at them? That way, when we get there, you'll be free to actually study them, and not spend time educating me,” he suggests.

Teddy considers it, and nods sagely.

“There's a bench by that tree over there. You could sit and read, and I could get us ice cream from the stand by the playground?”

“Oh, you were quick to figure that out, weren't you?” Harry laughs. But he obediently hands Teddy a fiver and walks towards the bench. It's a nice spot. The beautiful willow makes flecks of shadow dance over the worn wood of the bench. It's a relief to get off his feet for a bit, Harry thinks. Juggling the responsibilities of being a single parent and an Auror is hard work. He opens the book to the page Teddy has marked for him with one of the Zoo tickets, and starts reading.

>   
> **The Komodo Dragon – not really a Dragon**  
>  As any witch or wizard worth their wand can see, the Komodo Dragon isn't really a dragon, since it lacks wings and the ability to breathe fire.
> 
> The 'dragons' were first described to European wizards by the infamous pirate Harold the Hazardous, who described them as “Degenerate, non-magical dragons, somewhat resembling the Peruvian Vipertooth, but only about two thirds of the size and not fit for human consumption, not even when accompanied by copious amounts of firewhiskey.”
> 
> Of course Harold was later proved to be mistaken, as the 'dragons' are actually large lizards, and close relatives of the well known fire-dwelling salamander. The 'dragons' produce venom that is secreted from two glands in the jaw and causes rapid swelling, disruption of blood clotting, and a shooting pain.
> 
> The venom is an extremely potent and highly illegal ingredient in several poisons. The eggs are highly sought after as an agent in fertility potions.

Curious despite himself, Harry thumbs through the pages, reading snippets here and there. He looks up occasionally, casting glances at Teddy who is queuing behind a gaggle of teens. They seem to be taking ages to decide which flavours of ice cream they want, but Teddy remains at his place, patiently. Harry reads a few lines of an entry titled _Kestrels – are they related to Thestrals?_ And then loses himself in a very vivid description of peacock spiders and how they dance and use coloured flaps attached to their abdomens to attract the attention of a potential mate.

“Harry!”

At the sound of Teddy's panicked voice, Harry's head snaps up from the photograph where a small spider is dancing frantically, and shaking its tiny blue abdomen at an unimpressed looking female, and he sees Teddy walking towards him, holding a small boy's hand and gently tugging him along.

The boy's face is a grimy, sticky mess of tears, dust, and sunscreen. His shiny, white blond hair is the only thing remotely clean, and even that is mussed and sticking out in odd directions.

“Harry,” Teddy gasps, “he can't find his dad. We have to help him!” He turns to the boy and explains in his most serious voice; “Harry's an Aur- er, I mean he knows all about finding parents.”

Harry can feel his lips tugging up into a small smile. It's heart-warming, if a little worrying, the way Teddy still has blind faith in him, even at the ripe old age of ten.

The little boy sobs and uses his sleeve to wipe at his damp eyes. Harry crouches down in front of him, offering a smile.

“Hello. I'm Harry. Can you tell me your name?” he asks gently.

“S-scorpius,” the boy sniffs.

“Okay, Scorpius. Don't worry. We're going to help you find your dad. Do you remember the last place you saw him?”

“By the owls,” Scorpius says. “I just want to go home.” He scowls and sticks his lower lip out in a pout. Harry has an odd feeling that he's seen that exact expression somewhere before. “This Zoo is stupid. The pygmy hippos are nothing like pygmy puffs at all and Teddy says that the dragons aren't real!”

 _Pygmy puffs?!?_ Harry takes a closer look at the child. He's well dressed, even though he's a bit wrinkled at the moment. Maybe on the formal side for an ordinary zoo trip, but nothing that'll make him stand out in a crowd of Muggles. He's looking at Harry with light grey eyes and a slight frown, and Harry shakes himself out of his stupor.

“The owls. Okay. Let's go over there and look for him then. He's probably still there, looking for you. What's your dad's name, Scorpius?”

“Draco. That means Dragon. I'm not supposed to tell anyone our family name.” Scorpius says seriously.

An image of haunted, weary grey eyes flashes in Harry's mind. The last time he saw Malfoy was at the Death Eater trials right after the war. He remembers thinking that Malfoy looked changed. Defeated. And that it was wrong, somehow. That Draco – because, really, they've saved each other's lives, so he hopes that if they ever meet again, they'll be on first names with each other – should never look like that. Like he had stopped caring what the world threw at him. He remembers thinking that he should fix it, somehow, but not knowing where to start. And he remembers looking in the mirror, and seeing the same expression reflected back at him. They all looked like that, right after the battle, he suspects; teenagers, forced to grow up too quickly. It seems that Draco has indeed grown up and is now the father of this rumpled and crying little boy who misses his dad and just wants to go home. Harry offers him what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

“That's okay Scorpius. You don't have to tell me, if your dad says that you shouldn't. Let's go and find him, yeah?”

He holds his hand out for Scorpius to take, but the boy shakes his head and clings to Teddy instead. Teddy smiles at him fondly, before meeting Harry's eyes. Harry shrugs and starts walking towards the owls.

\- - -

Finding Draco is not difficult. He's taller than most people, for one thing, and for another, where the other Zoo guests are walking along sedately, or standing still, Draco is moving around frantically, trying to look everywhere at once. Harry spots him first, and takes a moment to look at him, before alerting the boys. Draco looks more panicked and scared than Harry has ever seen him, and his heart clenches in sympathy. He remembers that time when Teddy was five and wandered off in Diagon Alley. Harry had been scared to death for the entire ten minutes it took him to locate Teddy staring dreamily at the display window at Eeylops Owl Emporium.

“Scorpius,” he says, and points. “Is that your dad over there?”

“Dad!” Scorpius yells, and takes off at a sprint, still clutching Teddy's hand and dragging him along. Harry follows at a more sedate pace, but Draco turns around and runs towards his son, scooping Scorpius up and burying his face deep in messy blond hair. Draco's eyes are closed, and when Harry gets closer, he hears him taking a deep breath, and wonders if he is breathing in the smell of sweaty but safe little boy.

“Scorpius!” Draco is saying, in barely more than a whisper. “Oh, thank God you're in one piece. I was so worried. Please remember to stay close. It's important, especially when we're somewhere Mu- somewhere like the Zoo. Do you understand?”

Scorpius just nods and buries closer, clutching at his father's crisp, white shirt with grubby fists and hiding his tear-stained face in the crook of his neck.

“Hello, Draco,” Harry says, once Scorpius looks moderately less tense and has loosened his death grip on Draco's neck a fraction. Draco's eyes snap up to meet his and widen in recognition.

“Potter,” he says. He sounds a little apprehensive, but not hostile, like he did when they were at school. Harry can feel his lips quirk up into a small smile. Possibly the first genuine one he's ever directed at Draco, he realises with a start. Draco smiles back. It's a little shaky, maybe, but a smile never the less.

He only realises that they've been staring at each other for quite a while when Teddy tugs at his hand.

“Do you know Scorpius' dad, Harry?” he asks.

“Yes, I do. Teddy, this is Draco Malfoy. He was in my year at school,” Harry explains. He turns to Draco, who is watching Teddy with a small, puzzled frown.

“Draco, this is Teddy Lupin, my Godson and an excellent Zoologist, among other things.”

“I'm very pleased to meet you, Teddy,” Draco says and holds out a hand.

Teddy shakes it politely. “Me too, Mr Malfoy,” he says.

“You can call me Draco, you know. Harry and I seem to have moved on to first names, since the last time we met.” Draco fixes him with a look and a smile, and Harry's stomach does an odd sort of tingly flip, before he gathers enough sense to smile back.

“Thank you very much for helping Scorpius,” Draco says.

Harry is about to reply, but Teddy beats him to it.

“We were just going to see the dragons. I mean, the Komodo dragons. Not real ones. And then I heard Scorpius crying and I asked him what was wrong. He said he couldn't find his dad. And I said that Harry is really good at helping people. And then we looked for you.”

Scorpius is tugging at Draco's hand.

“Dad! Can we go and see the dragons too. Teddy says they're lizards. I want to see a lizard!”

“Yeah,” Teddy chimes in. “Please, Harry. I want to show the dragons to Scorpius.”

Harry shrugs and looks at Draco who nods.

“I don't see why not. It's not every day one gets the opportunity to see the London Zoo with a talented young zoologist as a tour guide,” he says.

\- - -

“And then sometimes, if there are no male dragons around, like in a Zoo, or on a very small island, the female will fertilise her own eggs,” Teddy says.

He has been talking non stop for well over ten minutes, and Scorpius is listening avidly to everything he says. Harry risks a glance at Draco, who is watching the boys with a small smile.

“Teddy's really brilliant,” Draco whispers in his ear, and Harry has to suppress a shiver at the sensation of hot breath ghosting over his neck. He turns to whisper back that yeah, he really is, and is somehow startled by their closeness. He can see every nuance of grey and blue in Draco's eyes and a smattering of very faint freckles over his nose. He can even _smell_ Draco this close. A faint, spicy scent, a mixture of clean cotton, mint pastilles, expensive hair potions and something undefinable but very pleasant, that registers deep in the pit of his stomach and sends a faint buzz through his entire body.

The boys have drifted off a few metres to get a better view of the dragons, Teddy pointing excitedly and Scorpius craning his neck to see whatever detail it is that Teddy is showing him. Draco steps back a little. They're still standing close, though, Harry realises. Closer than strictly necessary, now that they don't have to whisper in order to avoid interrupting Teddy's monologue. Their arms are brushing lightly against each other.

“Are you raising him alone?” Draco asks, and Harry has to mentally shake himself to focus on answering.

“For the most part, yeah. He stayed with his grandmother for the first years after the war, but when I finished Auror training and got a more predictable schedule, I took over more and more. Andromeda's not really that old, but it's hard work taking care of a child.” Harry says.

Draco nods. “I know. Your time's never really your own when you're a parent...”

“True. Teddy moved in with me full time a few years ago. What about you? Are you and Scorpius alone?”

The question seems a little intimate, but Harry is genuinely curious, and not just because finding out if Draco Malfoy is single suddenly seems important somehow. There's no ring on Draco's finger. He'll admit to himself that he checked; but a child born outside marriage is still a huge faux pas in the old families, and Draco having a son seems like something Skeeter and the rest of the staff at the Prophet would love to make sleazy accusations and wild guesses about. And yet, until today Harry hadn't even known that Draco was a father.

“Yes. We're just the two of us.” Draco doesn't offer any explanation, and Harry really wants to kick himself.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry.”

“It's okay. Most people are curious. We're not exactly a traditional family.” He raises a sardonic eyebrow and smirks. “But then again, neither are you and Teddy.”

“No, I suppose we aren't.”

Draco looks over at the boys and smiles to himself. Harry follows his gaze and sees that they are bent over the rail, heads stuck close together, and whispering excitedly. Teddy's hair has lightened from its usual dirty blond to platinum. 

“He's a Metamorphmagus?” Draco whispers.

“Yes, he is. He's really good at controlling it, usually. But sometimes when he gets excited about something, he forgets. Like now, apparently!” 

“It's from his mother’s side of the family, isn't it?” Draco asks, and Harry realises with a start that Draco and Scorpius are actually related to Teddy. And quite closely, at that. They're probably the closest blood relatives that he has, apart from Andromeda.

“Yes. It is. His mother was a Metamorphmagus too. Do you remember her? She was one of the Aurors guarding the school, when we were in 6th year.”

“I think so. I knew that she was my cousin, but I never really got to know her.”

“Andromeda doesn't talk about her much. I think it's too painful for her. Do you know if there are other Metamorphmagi in the family?”

“I don't think there are any in the last few generations. My mother might know of some. I could ask her for you?”

“Yes! Yes, please. That'd be great. I want to know as much as possible about Teddy's family.”

Harry can feel the smile that's tugging on his cheeks and tries to rein it in. It's probably not completely appropriate to be grinning like a loon, when discussing your child's dead mother, but the idea that Draco is going to ask his mother about Teddy's family, and the implication that they'll meet again, makes him oddly giddy. Draco smiles back though, so he's probably not making a complete fool out of himself.

“Harry! Draco!” Teddy yells. “Scorpius wants to go and look at the snakes. Can we? Please?”

“The snakes?” Draco sounds a little unsure.

“Yeah,” Scorpius says. “Teddy says that Harry can speak with them.”

“Er...” Harry says and looks around them to see if any Muggles have overheard. Luckily, no-one is nearby. “I suppose he's right. But it might not be a very good idea to speak to the snakes at a Muggle Zoo.”

“Oh!” Scorpius looks crestfallen. “I didn't think about that.”

Draco looks more at ease now, Harry notes with interest. He wonders if Draco is afraid of snakes. A memory, seen through eyes that are not his own, of a frightened Draco, watching as Nagini wraps her strong, shiny coils around Charity Burbage, flashes in his mind.

“Actually,” he says, “when Teddy found you, he was about to go and buy us ice cream.” He looks at Draco. “You could join us, and I could tell the boys the story of what happened the last time I went to the Zoo?”

“Yaaay! Ice cream!” Scorpius yells, and Teddy nods fervently. Harry winces. Maybe asking Scorpius out for ice cream without checking with Draco first hadn't been such a good idea. But Draco surprises him. “Sure. I could eat a scoop of Stracciatella,” he says. The boys barely hear him out, before they take off, two blond heads bobbing up and down as they run towards the ice cream shop hand in hand.

Harry and Draco follow at a more sedate pace, keeping the boys in sight, but not trying to keep up. When they arrive, the small ice cream stand is extremely crowded. Harry looks at Draco and shrugs helplessly. Draco looks at Scorpius and frowns.

“Scorpius! Are you feeling okay? You're bright red.” He reaches down and gently touches Scorpius' cheek. “I think you're getting sunburn.”

“My nose hurts a little. And my neck,” Scorpius says.

“I think we need to get out of the sun,” Draco says. “Maybe we'll have to postpone the ice cream...”

“Nooo! Dad! I want to have ice cream with Teddy. I don't care about being red and achy!”

“Yes, well, I do care, Scorpius,” Draco says levelly, “and right now we have to get you out of the sun!”

“We could go to Fortescue's,” Teddy suggests. “They have cooling cha- I mean they have a cooling system, and there are plenty of tables inside the shop!” He beams at them, proud of his idea and Harry holds his breath. He's not really sure how Draco feels about going to Diagon Alley, let alone going with him and Teddy.

“Yeah,” Scorpius says, “we could go to Fortescue's. I don't mind staying in the shade, if it's at Fortescue's.” He sends a look at Draco, that's so pleading and yet so imperious that Harry can't help smiling. He can just about imagine a young Draco using that exact look to wrap people around his little finger.

\- - -

To Harry, entering Diagon Alley and leaving behind the stress of being around Muggles, is usually a feeling akin to coming home and kicking off his shoes after a long day at work. Here, he doesn't have to hide who he is, or be careful about Teddy slipping up and morphing. Today is no different. He doesn't know about Draco, though. His entire posture changed, as they passed through the brick wall. He's holding himself very straight and his face, which had seemed so open and friendly at the Zoo, is an impassive mask, like it was when they were boys. Harry can see why, though, when an old witch scowls at them and pulls her granddaughter out of their way rather forcefully, as if she doesn't want her near Draco. Scorpius is chatting to Teddy and Harry is relieved to see that both boys seem oblivious to the change in atmosphere.

Fortescue's miraculously seems almost empty. They order: Ridiculously large bowls for the boys, which they'll never be able to finish, and a more sensible amount for the adults, along with cups of coffee. Draco leads them to a table at the back of the shop, where they'll be partially shielded from view, and Harry sinks into the comfortable chair with a sigh.

He doesn't get to enjoy the peace for long, though.

“Tell us about the last time you went to the Zoo!” Teddy demands.

“Yes,” Draco says. “I'm curious. What happened the last time you went to the Zoo, Harry?”  
His smile is friendly and a little teasing, and Harry is happy to see that the mask has melted away, as soon as they found relative privacy. 

“I set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley,” Harry says. His words are met with collective gasps from the boys and a disbelieving snort from Draco.

“I was ten years old. It was an accident!” he protests. And adds, maybe a bit petulantly, “Dudley had it coming, though.”

“How did you manage?” Scorpius sounds intrigued.

“I... don't know exactly.” He hedges, thinking that he probably shouldn't be too specific. Scorpius is a nice little boy, but he remembers Teddy at four, and how an idea could be turned into action in a matter of minutes. “I was just standing there, having a conversation with the snake, when Dudley interrupted. The glass sort of evaporated, the snake slithered out, and then the glass reformed... with Dudley on the inside.”

“Wow! That is _wicked_!” Scorpius' eyes are huge and round and even Teddy looks suitably impressed.

“I got in a lot of trouble with my uncle, though,” Harry cautions. “It was completely accidental. I didn't even know that magic existed. But you really shouldn't attempt something like that on purpose. That snake was huge. It could have easily hurt someone. And the zoo keepers had to close up the entire reptile display, to catch it.”

Scorpius is so caught up in Harry's story, that he almost misses his bowl of ice cream. The spoon slides along the side of the bowl and ends up tipping it over, spilling the ice cream all over Teddy, who is sitting next to him.

“Oh no!” Scorpius sounds like he's close to tears. “Sorry, Teddy!”

Teddy wipes at the ice cream ineffectively, rubbing the chocolate sauce into his shirt. Harry cringes at the fuss Kreacher will likely kick up when he sees the stain.

“It's okay, Scorpius,” Teddy says, offering him a smile.

“We should probably go home and find you some clean clothes, though,” Harry tells him.

“No! I don't want you to go home, Teddy. And I want to hear more of Harry's story.” Scorpius' lip wobbles dangerously. Draco picks him up and hugs him.

“I'll tell you the rest of the story some other time,” Harry reassures him. He really hopes that it's true. Draco smiles at him gratefully.

“Yes. I'll be in touch, about the information we discussed,” he says. “And thank you again for helping Scorpius. I... I'm glad it was you who found him. Goodbye, Teddy. It was very good to meet you.”

“Bye, Teddy! Bye, Harry!” Scorpius calls, and before Harry gets a chance to reply, Draco has Disapparated with his son in his arms. With a twinge of disappointment, Harry holds out a hand to Teddy and they spin away from Fortescue’s and stumble into the kitchen at Grimmauld Place.

\- - -

For the next week, Harry answers his Floo a little quicker than usual, but each time, it's Ron or Luna or another one of his friends, and he's not exactly enthusiastic about that. On the fourth day Hermione comments on it, and on day seven even Ron asks if something is wrong, when Harry looks less than happy to see his face in the fire.

After he has said goodbye to Ron, he goes down to the kitchen to prepare for dinner, since Kreacher is busy cleaning the second floor. He pulls out vegetables and begins chopping with maybe a little more force than strictly necessary. He has just beheaded a carrot with a particularly vicious chop, when Teddy barges in.

“Harry! There's an owl at the window!”

Harry throws the knife onto the cutting board and practically runs upstairs. He opens the window to a grumpy-looking but beautiful owl. She hoots impatiently and holds out her leg, and Harry breaks into a grin, when he sees the small leather case with the Malfoy crest on it. He takes the letter and offers the owl a treat, but she just looks at him and hoots again.

“Oh! You're waiting for a reply!”

He rolls out the thick, creamy-white parchment and quickly scans the words, written in Draco's elegant hand.

> Dear Harry –
> 
> I've asked Mother about the family history, and she told me some very interesting stories about Metamorphmagi in the Black family through the ages.
> 
> If you're free I'd like to ask you to join me for dinner tomorrow at 8, so I can tell you about it.
> 
> The wards have been adjusted to allow you to Apparate directly onto the Manor grounds.
> 
> Celeste will await your reply.
> 
> Draco

Harry folds the parchment carefully and puts it in his pocket, before rooting through the desk drawer for his nicest stationery, and writing a reply. He puts it in Celeste's letter case and she snatches the previously neglected owl treat and flies off.

Harry calmly returns to his dinner-making, helps Teddy with his homework and sends him off to bed. And then he collapses in a giddy and slightly panicked heap in front of the fireplace, tosses in a handful of Floo-powder and calls out for Hermione.

“Harry! You're smiling! I take it that means that whatever had you moping around like a teenager this past week has been resolved?”

“I... Er... I'm going out to dinner tomorrow with this bloke, and I think it may be a date. I mean... he titled the letter 'Dear Harry', but he only signed his name, so I don't really know...”

He's interrupted by a squeal of delight and has to wait for her to calm down before he's able to continue.

“... anyway, I was wondering if you and Ron could keep an eye on Teddy for the night?”

“Yes! Of course we'll look after him. But Harry, you have to tell me everything about this mystery man. Do we know him? How did you meet? Has he met Teddy? Oh! Is he a Muggle?”

“Er... that's great. About Teddy, I mean. And no, you don't know him, and he's not a Muggle.”

It's not a lie, Harry thinks. Hermione doesn't know Draco. She may know his name, but she doesn't know the person Harry met at the Zoo last week at all. He loves her, but he just doesn't want her to analyse this. She'll end up with something that'll be overbearing or maybe a little insulting, and he just wants to keep this... thing... with him and Draco between them and only them. He wants to enjoy the lurches and swoops in his stomach every time Draco's name is mentioned, without having Hermione's advice about being careful in the back of his mind.

She looks at him through narrowed eyes for a moment, but then she smiles.

“I'll have Ron pick Teddy up from school tomorrow and keep him overnight. That way you'll have the afternoon to get ready. Have fun!”

“Thanks Hermione. You're a gem, you know that, right?”

She laughs at him and closes the Floo connection.

\- - -

Malfoy Manor is exactly like Harry remembers it, and yet so very different. There are no peacocks, for one thing. And for another, there's a swing in one of the huge oaks flanking the house, and a sandpit on the lawn. Harry can picture Scorpius playing there, and Draco sitting on the bench nearby, watching him.

He knocks and fully expects a House-elf to open, so he's a little surprised to see Draco, with his hair dishevelled and his sleeves rolled up. There are dark, wet patches on the knees of his grey trousers as well. 

“Please come in,” Draco says, “and sorry about this.” He gestures at his hair and clothes. “Scorpius insisted that I had to be there for his bath.”

“Oh! That's okay. Is he going to join us for dinner?”

“No. Don't worry. It'll just be the two of us. Mother will put him to bed. Let me take your coat.”

They walk through the hall, which Harry is relieved to note looks a lot friendlier than the last time he saw it. The dark, austere decorations are gone, and replaced with tasteful light colours and flower arrangements. A portrait of a young girl dressed in rather old-fashioned robes stares at them curiously and giggles behind her hand.

“I hope you don't mind eating in the kitchen,” Draco says. “We've closed off the upper floors. There was a lot of spell and curse damage, and most of the rooms still hold memories which we'd rather forget.”

Harry's mind flashes to memories of the Manor – both his own and ones he has seen through Voldemort’s eyes, and he feels a twinge of sympathy for Draco and his mother. Living here, being confronted with that year, every time they enter a room. It must have been hell, especially right after the war.

“Oh! Of course! The kitchen is fine.”

And it is. The kitchen reminds Harry of Hogwarts. There's a huge open fireplace, which most house-elves seem to prefer over more modern appliances, and a long, oak table. One end has been covered with a white tablecloth and two place settings. There's a starter waiting on the table. The room is dark, apart from the faint glow from the fire, but the table is illuminated by two beautiful candelabra, intricately decorated with silver dragons. It's grand and intimate at the same time, and Harry instantly feels more at ease than he has since he Apparated onto the manor grounds.

The food is delicious too, and the wine is lovely. Harry can feel himself relax, almost forgetting where he is and what that might mean, and only focusing on the man on the other side of the table, and the meal they're sharing.

“I'm glad you agreed to come,” Draco says. “I have a lot to tell you, you know. My mother knew quite a bit, and I took the liberty of looking a few things up for you. We have a rather extensive library.”

“I'm happy to be here. And not just for Teddy's sake. I.. I have wondered about you. About what happened to you, I mean. Occasionally. After... Er... And last week was a surprise, but I really enjoyed it. So did Teddy.”

“Yes. I enjoyed it too,” Draco says. He's smiling. A small, pleased one, like he's happy to hear that Harry has been thinking about him. Their eyes meet briefly, but then Draco clears his throat and looks back to his plate, and Harry can't help the sense of disappointment that sweeps over him.

“As I said, I looked up a few things. My mother said there's a book in the library at Grimmauld Place – she read it when she was a child – called _Nature's Nobility_. Have you read it?”  
“  
Harry frowns. The title seems somewhat familiar, but he can't really place it. Something about Kreacher... Ah!

“No. But Hermione has. Kreacher lent it to her, during the war, I think. It lists pureblood families, doesn't it?”

“Among other things, yes. It also has a chapter on Metamorphmagi. It's written in a rather... elitist... way, but the gist if it is, that the magic in the old families' bloodlines has been so condensed – some would say inbred – over the years, that it reacts rather violently when it's mixed with outside magic,” Draco says.

Harry's mind goes blank for a moment. And an icy fist seems to clutch at his heart.

“Violently?”

There must have been something in his voice giving away his panic, because Draco reaches out a hand and places it over Harry's.

“Sorry! I phrased that wrong. I didn't mean to scare you.”

He gives Harry's hand a gentle squeeze, and leaves their hands clasped together on the table. Draco’s hand is warm and smooth and Harry barely dares to breathe.

“What I meant was, that the magic overreacts and instead of creating just one form, it creates the ability to switch between appearances,” Draco explains. “It's particularly prevalent with the Blacks, but there are other families with the same condition. The book suggests that it's a curse, of a sort, designed to expose children with impure blood. That's absolute rubbish, of course; Metamorphing isn't a curse, it's a highly sought-after skill. But what it all comes down to is that the combination of magic from Ted Tonks, who was Muggleborn, and my Aunt Andromeda, came together in their daughter in such a way that it created the ability to Metamorph. And the introduction of werewolf magic, from Teddy's father, further enhanced it, I think.”

“So the Morphing isn't dangerous?” Harry asks. He didn't know Tonks that well after all. And on the rare occasions that Andromeda talked about her, she tended to glorify her daughter more than was strictly true.

“No. I haven't found anything that indicates that it is. And Mother didn't know of any ill-effects either.”

He squeezes Harry's hand again, and their eyes meet briefly, before Draco lets go and busies himself with pouring them more wine.

Conversation flows easier than Harry would have dared hope, even if it is aided by a couple of glasses of wine.

“Scorpius has been talking about you and Teddy all week,” Draco says. They've finished the main course and are eating pudding. Draco is licking chocolate off his spoon and Harry is rather mesmerised by the way his tongue flattens over the rounded piece of silver. “He used to want to be a dragon tamer or a Quidditch player, but now he wants to be a zoologist and go to Antarctica with Teddy and look for penguins.”

Harry's mouth has gone completely dry, and he has to clear his throat before answering. 

“Well that'll be interesting. I'm sure Teddy will be more than willing to share his adventures. He has talked about Scorpius quite a bit too.”

“Oh, but the zoologist thing is just the beginning. He keeps telling me how brilliant he thinks you are. It's annoying!”

Harry looks up, startled at the acidic remark, but Draco is smiling, despite his words.

“Yes, well, Teddy thinks you're rather brilliant too. He wants to know all about you. I think he's intrigued by the idea of having blood relatives.” He returns Draco's smile with a mischievous smirk. “I have been telling him all about our adventures in the Forest in first year, of course. And about that time Hermione punched you in the nose.”

“Of course you have, Potter! You're very creative with your storytelling like that. 'I was just innocently standing there, having a conversation with a boa constrictor, and oops, I performed some very tricky magic and managed to get my revenge on my cousin and free a poor captive animal. All completely accidental, of course.'” Draco says. His voice is slightly mocking, but his eyes are full of good humour and Harry thinks there's something more there. Something that makes him feel slightly reckless and giddy.

“Oh, you're back to calling me Potter now? I thought we were getting along so well, Draco,” Harry teases.

Draco grins at him.

“Yes, well, I reserve the right to call you Potter whenever you're acting like a prat.”

“I'm a prat?” Harry says, careful to put as much disbelief into his tone as possible, and accompanying his words with a teasing little smile.

“Yes! You are, sometimes. And the worst part is, you don't even do it on purpose!” Draco says. “It's just 'Oh, I accidentally entered the Triwizard Tournament and won. Oh, I accidentally saved the world and became a hero'. Things just happen to you, accidentally, and you take them in stride.” Draco seems genuinely miffed, and Harry can't help laughing.

“Really, Draco? You spent our formative years mocking me, while I was being hunted by a madman, and secretly, you were jealous?”

Draco huffs. “I certainly was not! That would be very silly.”

“Yes. Very!” Harry laughs.

Draco joins him, and Harry's stomach lurches at the sight of him, laughing with his head thrown back, and his throat exposed. He's all kinds of beautiful. Strong and vulnerable at the same time, and Harry really, really wants to taste the skin on his long, slender neck. He wants to run his tongue along the tendon on the side of it, from his collarbone to his ear. He wants to smell that spot behind his ear, where he just knows the scent of Draco will be divine, and he wants to hear Draco moan when he gently nips at his ear lobe.

He swallows painfully and realises that he has been staring. His eyes snap up, and Draco must have been able to read him like an open book, because he's staring at him with eyes so wide that the grey is only a small circle around blown pupils.

Harry stares back, and then all of a sudden they're kissing and Harry doesn't know who moved first or how it happened, but it doesn't matter. Not when Draco's lips are soft and yet demanding, and his hands are pulling him closer, stroking down his arms and wrapping around his waist in a firm embrace. His own hands come up and tangle in blond hair, which turns out to be just as soft and silky as it looks. He lets it slip through his fingers, enjoying the fact that he's apparently allowed to touch, and then tightens his grip, as Draco turns their kiss into something a lot more messy and primal. It settles like a swirl of heat, deep in his belly, tingling and spreading into every nerve ending. He presses in closer, enjoying the feel of wiry muscle along his front. There is a quite impressive bulge pressing up against his hip, and when he rubs against it, Draco lets out a half-strangled moan in response, and pulls back from the kiss, far enough to make eye contact. His eyes are half closed and his mouth is red and swollen. He's absolutely beautiful.

“Yes?” Draco whispers.

“Yes!” his voice is a little broken, but Draco seems to hear him all the same.

They've ended up standing next to the table, somehow, and Draco takes a step forward, backing Harry against the table top. His arse collides with solid oak, and Draco steps in between his parted legs, long, clever fingers finding the buttons of his shirt, and quickly undoing them.

Their shirts are quickly discarded and Draco finds his collarbone, nosing at it, and licking a searing kiss into his sensitive skin. Harry closes his eyes and lets his body fall back against the table. His hips are moving helplessly, seeking out heat and friction against Draco's. His hands are roaming over Draco's back, relishing in the feeling of soft skin over lean muscle. Draco moves his hips, and after a few tries their erections align perfectly, making Harry exhale a breathy moan. Draco hisses and smashes their mouths together, speeding up his thrusts and Harry raises his hips to meet him. His glasses are askew and there's something digging into his shoulder, but it's perfect all the same. He arches under Draco and makes a desperate, mewling sound, trying to get closer, and Draco's warm hand settles on his hips, sliding around to cup his arse, spreading him apart. There's a thumb pressing at his entrance through his trousers, and Draco gasps something that may be his name, and shudders above him. Harry's eyes fly open, when the touch and the sound of Draco’s voice send him over the edge, and Draco's flushed face and huge eyes fill his vision as they both come.

There's a moment where the only sound Harry can hear is his own heartbeat. Then he wiggles a little, trying to dislodge the... fork from under his shoulder, and suddenly he's aware of the uncomfortable, cooling wetness spreading through his trousers, and the discomfort of being sprawled across a wooden table. 

Something must have shown on his face, because Draco eases off him and helps him to his feet. He's looking unsure, and Harry wants to kiss the doubt away, so he leans in, nipping at Draco's lower lip and soothing it with little laps of his tongue.

“I... Wow! That was... just wow!”

“Very eloquent, Harry,” Draco drawls. There's a small smile playing on his lips. “I wish I'd known back at school, that an orgasm was all it took for you to shut up.” He leans in and steals a playful little kiss, making the harsh words lose their sting.

“I'll probably start babbling again soon,” Harry says, shooting him a hopeful grin.

He hears soft laughter and feels Draco's arms tighten around him, before the world is spinning away, and he lands on a soft bed, surrounded by heavy brocade hangings.

\- - -

Harry wakes up to something tickling his nose and ear, and discovers that Draco's head is tucked against his neck. He takes a deep breath, relishing the smell of the soft strands of hair, and hoping that he'll get a few moments to just lie here and enjoy this, before Draco wakes up. Last night, everything seemed so easy, a blur of mutual want and need. But now, with the morning light seeping through the silver and blue hangings of the bed, Harry can't help but wonder how Draco is going to react, when he wakes up. He takes another deep breath. If Draco regrets this... if he has misinterpreted everything and this was just a one-time occurrence, then he is going to enjoy it while it lasts.

Draco shifts against him, and murmurs something in his sleep, that sounds a lot like “more Boomslang skin, please,” and Harry wonders idly what very strange dream he is having. Draco smacks his lips and wiggles to get comfortable, tightening his arm around Harry's chest and burrowing into his neck. Harry can't help the soft sound that escapes him, and Draco's hand twitches against his side, where it's curled up. He raises his head and blinks at Harry blearily.

“Mmmph,” he says, and then promptly falls back to sleep.

Apparently, Draco Malfoy is not a morning person. Harry lies awake for a few minutes, pondering how very strange, but at the same time completely natural it feels to lie here next to him, before he closes his eyes and drifts off back to sleep.

\- - -

The second time Harry wakes up, there's something deliciously hard poking into his hip, and a mouth at his neck, licking hot, wet kisses into the sensitive skin behind his ear. He presses back against Draco and is rewarded with a hand skimming down his stomach and wrapping around his half-hard cock, working him with long, lazy strokes until he's a shuddering, writhing mess, leaking all over the sheets and begging for Draco to just... _please, more, now, please!_

After, they lay there for a long time, spent and gasping for breath, their mingled sweat cooling on exposed skin, exchanging lazy kisses and touches.

“Come down to breakfast with me?” Draco asks.

“Mmmh,” is all the answer Harry can manage.

“I mean... only if you want to. My mother will be there. And Scorpius...”

The implication of what Draco is asking hits him, and suddenly, Harry is wide awake, giddy with happiness and with a squirmy knot of nerves.

“Yes!” he says, and leans in for a kiss. “But I'll have to borrow some clothes.”

It's an hour, a shower, a blowjob and a second – separate – shower later, when they finally emerge from Draco's bedroom, hand in hand and make the trip downstairs. They pause before the door to the kitchen, and Draco reaches up to adjust the collar of the blue shirt Harry has borrowed.

“Ready?” he asks.

Harry smiles and nods.

\- - -

Harry fiddles self-consciously with the sleeves of his borrowed shirt, and squirms a little in the too-tight trousers. He is aching in all the right places, and it's an effort to keep the small smile on his face from turning into a huge, smug grin.

He knocks on the door of Ron and Hermione's cottage, and listens to the footsteps of a person running towards the door. It swings open and Ron takes one look at him and bursts out laughing.

“Harry! Good to see you've finally decided to join us. Looks like you had quite a night, mate!”

Harry shrugs and smiles sheepishly.

“Er, yes. I suppose I did.” The grin is out in full force now, and he suspects that he's looking a bit mad. 

“Hermione is in the garden with Ginny and the kids. Come on.”

He follows Ron through the house, accepting a cup of tea as they pass the kitchen and step out into the back garden.

Teddy is playing with little Rose on a blanket in the shade, and Ginny and Hermione seem to be engrossed in a conversation. If Ginny's expansive hand gestures and Hermione's slightly glazed expression are to be believed, Ginny is retelling her latest Quidditch match. They look up and break into smiles when they see him. He gives Teddy a hug, and Ginny a quick peck on the cheek, and then finds himself with a face full of bushy hair and a pair of arms around his neck.

“Harry!” Hermione draws back and gives him a quick once over. He can feel the hot blush creep over his face, knowing that she must have spotted the rather prominent bite mark on the side of his neck.

“Let's have lunch before you take Teddy home,” she says, when she releases him. “Come and help me with the plates.”

They go back into the kitchen and the moment Harry is inside, Hermione closes the door to the garden and leans against it, as if she's trying to keep him from running away. Harry swallows nervously.

“Draco Malfoy?” she says. “You spent the night with Draco Malfoy, didn't you?” Her brown eyes widen in disbelief, but Harry is relieved to see that she doesn't look angry. Actually, she looks a little... smug? Like she does when she's the first to figure out a clue or solve a riddle.

“Er... I...” he manages, and then gives up. “How on earth did you know?!”

She takes his hand and turns it over, resting it in her soft, cool palm and exposing the silver buttons on the cuff of his borrowed shirt. And there it is. The Malfoy crest and the initials DM engraved into each button. 

There's no way this is an accident. Draco must have known exactly what he was doing when he sent Harry to his friends’ house, wearing his name and family crest. It's... devious, but then again, it's Draco. It's also oddly endearing, not to speak of insanely hot, being claimed like that.

“Oh!” he says, rather weakly.

Hermione smiles at him knowingly and wraps him in another hug.

“I'm happy for you,” she whispers against his shoulder, and he hugs her back fiercely, thinking that for the first time in a very long while, he feels really, truly happy as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! All comments are extremely welcome either here or on [Livejournal](http://hd-fan-fair.livejournal.com/57265.html).


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